Where Trust Lies Read online

  © 2015 by Janette Oke and Laurel Oke Logan

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-6536-4

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  List of Characters

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  About the Author

  Books by Janette Oke

  Back Ads

  Back Cover

  List of Characters

  The Thatcher Family

  Beth—Elizabeth Thatcher

  Mother—Priscilla Thatcher

  Father—William Thatcher

  Julie—Beth’s sister, four years younger

  Margret Bryce—Beth’s married sister, two years older

  John Bryce—Margret’s husband

  JW Bryce—Margret’s toddler son, Beth’s nephew

  The Montclair Family

  Charles Montclair—Father’s business partner and family friend

  Edith Montclair—Edward’s mother and Mother’s closest friend

  Edward Montclair—Beth’s childhood friend and would-be suitor

  Victoria Montclair—Edward’s teenage sister

  Others

  Jarrick “Jack” Thornton—Beth’s romantic interest from Where Courage Calls

  Emma—the Thatchers’ maid

  Miss Lucille Bernard—JW’s nanny

  Lise—the Montclairs’ maid

  Monsieur Emile Laurent—French guide and friend of Father’s

  Penny, Jannis, and Nick—friends from aboard ship

  Chapter

  1

  BETH GRIPPED THE VELVETY ROSE PETAL and gingerly tugged until it released from its place in the still-fragrant bloom. What a shame! If only I had a way to preserve the whole bouquet. But during much of the trip she had occupied herself with considering her homecoming scene at the Toronto station, and this solution seemed best. If she descended from the train carrying a box of fading long-stemmed roses, Mother would instantly be on alert to the fact that there was much more to tell about Beth’s year of teaching in Coal Valley than she had previously disclosed. A flood of questions and assumptions would ensue, many more than Beth was prepared to answer. And she could think of no better way to conceal Jarrick’s farewell gift—while still secretly treasuring it.

  With a sigh she freed another of the wine-colored petals and gently tucked it with the others in the white handkerchief on her lap. She of course knew she needn’t collect them all, but it was painful to face discarding even the smallest, most tightly curled petal. She drew the lace hanky with its delightful essence close to her face and breathed in deeply . . . remembering.

  She could still see Jarrick back at the Lethbridge station, touching his pocket holding Beth’s Toronto address and telephone number. Tall and broad-shouldered, his copper hair glinted blond where the sun’s rays shone on it, trim mustache over a smile that also held sadness at her departure. The daydream of soon receiving his first letter, maybe even hearing his voice at the other end of the telephone, made her face grow warm. If only there’s a reason to return to the West. If only news arrives soon inviting me to another year of teaching in Coal Valley this fall . . .

  Beth glanced out the window of her compartment as the train slowed for the Toronto station. She knotted the corners of the handkerchief and tucked the sweet-smelling little bundle safely away in her handbag. Next she quickly unwrapped from around the remaining rose stems a second handkerchief, repeatedly moistened during the journey to keep the flowers fresh. She rinsed and wrung it out in the sink basin in her compartment and tucked it away in a corner of her carpetbag. Her pulse was racing as the train whistle sounded and the station came into view. With a last nostalgic glance at the barren stems in their florist box, Beth picked up her carpetbag and followed the porter, who carried two more bags for her down the narrow hallway.

  Squeezing past other passengers, she descended the oversized steps and arrived on firm pavement. Despite her anticipation, Beth felt exhausted. No more trains! she thought with a sigh. At least for the next few months. It’s so good to be home. Why does travel consume so much energy—even when I mostly sit?

  She scanned the station around her to locate her porter again. What she noticed first, though, was her father, his arm waving above the crowd.

  But it was Julie’s voice she heard. “Bethie! We’re over here!” Beth chuckled to see her younger sister’s head bobbing intermittently into view. She pushed through the mass of travelers and into the arms of her family.

  “You’re home, darling. Oh, welcome home!” A tangle of arms encircled her, along with laughter and excited greetings.

  Beth finally managed, “I can’t tell you how good it is to see all of you! There simply are no words—”

  “We’ve been so anxious for you to be home,” her mother put in quickly, patting Beth’s face with a white-gloved hand. “You look well. Are you well, Beth? But you seem thinner. Have you been eating?” Her mother leaned back to survey Beth, who was dressed in the same travel suit she had worn when she left Toronto last year.

  “I’m fine, Mother—never better. Truly.”

  Julie pressed closer, grasping Beth’s arm. “There’s so much to tell you! Just wait till you hear! It’s simply glorious.” Julie’s eyes danced with delight.

  Immediately the girl was shushed and nudged aside by Mother. “Now, Julie, all in good time. All in good time.” Turning back, her mother quickly said, “Here, darling, let Julie take your bag.” Something in Mother’s tone caught Beth’s attention, but by then Julie had quickly grasped the carpetbag, and Beth was wrapped in her father’s long, warm hug.

  All speaking at once, they took her other bags from the porter, Father paid him, and the joyful family headed for the street. Her trunks from the baggage car would be delivered in due time, the porter had said.


  They tucked themselves into Father’s Rolls-Royce, and he nodded to the driver. Beth stared out at the long lines of traffic on familiar, nicely paved roads crowded mostly with rowdy little roadsters, delivery trucks, and periodically a sleek expensive touring car—all swerving at random to dodge an oncoming streetcar or daring pedestrian. What a contrast to Coal Valley! she marveled silently. I must have forgotten. . . .

  At last, they left downtown, rolled through a residential area under a canopy of trees, and stopped on the circle of brick pavers in front of the lovely place Beth had called home most of her life. She drew in a satisfied breath as her mother and sister climbed out ahead of her, Julie giggling and Mother pushing her forward with familiar admonitions. Beth was grateful to find that all was as she had left it ten months earlier. Her eyes lifted to the façade of the three-story stone English-manor-style dwelling. It seems far larger than I remember, she noted as she stepped out of the car.

  As if on cue, Margret and her husband appeared in the open doorway. Beth ran up the front steps and into the embrace of her older sister, and on to John’s as well. But her gaze soon was searching beyond them. Margret, wearing a knowing smile, placed a hand on Beth’s arm and nodded toward the wide parlor doorway. Beth’s hand flew to her mouth. A sturdy little figure with chubby legs was moving away from them as fast as he could. My beloved JW!

  “Margret, he’s gotten so big! Oh, he’s grown up.” A mixture of joy and sadness filled Beth’s eyes with tears. Wiping them quickly away, she hurried toward her precious little nephew and tried to scoop him up in her arms.

  But he twisted and wriggled free, taking refuge behind his father’s legs. He doesn’t remember me! The realization struck like a cold wind from the Rockies. Margret slipped an arm around Beth with a small chuckle. “Just give him a little while—he’ll soon be following you everywhere until you’re begging for respite.”

  Beth smiled, but she still mourned silently, then was further jarred with another realization. I don’t really know him anymore, either.

  “He’s such fun for us, Beth,” Margret was saying. “You’ll see. We even taught him how to say ‘Auntie Beth’—though it still sounds more like ‘Annie Bet,’ I’m afraid.”

  “He’s even talking?”

  “Yes, more every day, it seems! He’s well ahead of others his age.” Margret paused and gave a little laugh. “At least, we think so.”

  Julie had crept up behind JW, and the almost-two-year-old giggled when he saw her. “And you say Annie Bet just as perfectly as you say Annie Doolie, don’t you, little man?” Her tickling fingers sent the toddler squealing up the hallway with Julie chasing behind.

  Margret gave Beth’s waist a gentle squeeze and led her into the dining room, explaining that lunch was waiting. “We want to hear all about your life out west, Beth. Mother shared most of your letters, but I’m sure there’s much more to tell.”

  Beth pictured the flower petals safe in her bag. More than you know, Margret dearest. More than you know.

  Beth opened her eyes cautiously, looking around the once-familiar bedroom. It had felt strange to wake up with her arms over the blankets rather than tucked deep beneath as she was used to in response to Coal Valley’s chilly nights and Miss Molly’s woodstove-heated home. She remembered the feel of the thick carpeting last night as she had made her way to the large, inviting bathroom. And that long soak in the huge tub was absolutely delightful—a stark contrast to the iron tub near Miss Molly’s kitchen that needed to be filled by hand from the stove.

  But any opportunity to quietly reorient herself was interrupted by a quick knock, the door opening, Julie’s sparkling face and “Time to get up, lazy bones!” greeting her. Beth couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Come on, breakfast is laid out, and your trunks are here.” Julie pulled her into a sitting position and urged her to hurry before darting out as quickly as she had arrived.

  Beth dressed and joined the rest of the family downstairs. She certainly was no longer accustomed to having the breakfast items on the sideboard being quietly refilled by a servant while the family ate and chatted around the table. But mostly they all had mercy on Beth, letting her eat and drink her tea without bombarding her with too many more questions.

  After the meal, and once her luggage had been carried up to her bedroom, Mother insisted on helping Beth unpack and organize her things. Margret came along and dropped into the window seat, while Julie scurried between the trunks, peeking and poking and commenting on whatever caught her fancy. Beth, her mother, and their maid, Emma, pulled items out to store away. Wouldn’t Miss Molly be astonished if she could see all this commotion just to unpack?

  “Oh my!” Mother sounded genuinely alarmed. “What on earth is this?” She held up a simple calico blouse.

  Beth took the garment from Mother’s hands and tucked it back into the trunk with the other modest clothing, explaining quickly, “It’s what I wore for teaching. I had items like this sewn for me. This made it so much easier for the students to relate to me.” She was aware of a defensive tone in her voice and tried to produce an easy smile.

  The very idea seemed to leave her mother speechless. She was lifting out similar skirts and shirtwaists, her eyes wide with dismay. She held several of the garments up and turned first to Margret, then to Julie.

  But Margret only said, “How gracious of you, Beth, to think of helping them feel at ease. No wonder your teaching was successful.”

  Julie laughed brightly. “Don’t worry, Mother. From my visit I found she was well-suited to the area. But Bethie,” she coaxed—and for a moment Beth appreciated her deft change of subject—“you really haven’t told us everything about your adventures. Isn’t there anything else—anyone else—we should know about?”

  Beth shot a sideways frown at Julie, then answered evenly, “No, I think I’ve been quite thorough about it all. And from last night’s dinner discussions and our breakfast conversation, I’m sure you’ve all heard a sufficient account, at least for now.”

  Julie leaned into the trunk, near enough to whisper in Beth’s ear, “Liar!” Her sister’s short visit to Coal Valley had given her the edge over others in the household. Julie knew about Jarrick—had met him. And there was no way to predict what the girl might dare say next. Beth was relieved to see her sister sidle away toward the dresser with a brush and a box of hairpins.

  But Julie wasn’t finished with her little game. Before Mother could question her about her evocative comment, Julie declared, “That’s all right, Bethie.” And with a teasing shrug, she added in a mock haughty tone, “It seems I’m the only woman among us anxious to hear all of the truth laid out fully.”

  This time it was Mother who frowned, directing her words to Julie but obviously meant for all. “I will wait for an appropriate time for further discussions . . .” Mother’s voice drifted away.

  “But we can talk about our secret now?” Julie insisted, leaning in closer.

  Beth closed the trunk lid and straightened. “All right, what’s going on?”

  Mother sighed, gave an almost imperceptible nod, and with a squeal of delight Julie burst out, “Don’t put your trunks away just yet, sister darling. You’re going to need them!”

  Mother dismissed Emma with a wave of her hand and motioned for Beth to take a seat beside her on the bed. Beth’s heart raced. What on earth . . . ?

  “As you know, we have wanted for several years to do some traveling. But with Father’s business requiring so much of it, we’ve not been able to do so. He has, however, agreed that now you all are of sufficient maturity that we would be able to go on our own. We have arranged for a cruise to see some of the large cities and other sights along the St. Lawrence and also along the eastern coast of Canada and the United States.”

  Margret was nodding with an affirming smile. Mother hurried on, “Ships are not at all the cumbersome, unsuitable transports they once were—now very modern and comfortable, equipped with every convenience. I’ve heard they even hold in
door swimming pools, if you can imagine. Many of our friends have found a cruise to be an excellent way to travel.”

  “New York City!” Julie burst out. “Just think of it!”

  Beth felt her heart pounding and swallowed hard. “And when are you—when is the planned departure?”

  A moment of silence hung awkwardly around them. The other three exchanged glances, then turned back to Beth. Mother finally said slowly, “The plan is that we—all of us—will leave for Quebec City this coming Monday. In fact, we’ve agreed to travel with Mrs. Montclair and her daughter Victoria. We’ve been planning this for several weeks now.” Her mother’s voice had grown more confident with each phrase.

  Beth studied her hands, avoiding the eyes fixed on her. They’re waiting for an answer. Expecting enthusiasm. My agreement. Yet she suspected that if she said much immediately she would disappoint them all. “I’ve just come home, Mother.” Beth swallowed again. “I had thought . . . I’d looked forward to . . .” Beth looked around at their expressions. She struggled for the right response. “I’ll need to consider it.” Another pause. “I certainly do need a bit of time to think it over.”

  All the anticipation had instantly dissipated. Margret stood and slipped away with a pat on Beth’s arm, Julie quickly followed, and Mother last of all. She hesitated at the door. “We were so excited to tell you, Beth. Particularly Julie. I wish you had . . .” She stopped and sighed. “Your response is rather unexpected since you’ve often begged to travel. I hadn’t thought there would be any doubt of your agreement.” She shook her head. “And I don’t know where you might stay, what you will do, if you do not join us. Father will be gone also. The house will be as good as empty. Please do consider carefully, darling. We’ve missed you dreadfully all this time. It hasn’t been the same with you gone. And I don’t think I could bear to leave you behind.” Mother’s last statement followed her into the hall.

  Beth gazed down at her partially unpacked trunks and refused to give in to tears. But as she reached trembling hands to continue the task, her heart felt heavy in her chest.

  “Would you have time for a walk with me?” Her smile for her father felt a bit tremulous as she looked at him from the door of his study.